


Word Games

by AngelicPretty



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drug Abuse, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Narcissism, Prostitution, Secret Relationship, Therapy, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicPretty/pseuds/AngelicPretty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of silly drabbles from requests on Tumblr.<br/>In the latest chapter: Nathan/Magnus short story done for a drabble request.<br/>Post-Doomstar. Nathan recollects some of the rough times he'd had with Magnus before he went nutso</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Druxy

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a different drabble request. They're usually written all at once at like, some ungodly hour, so apologies for any typos/etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside.

It was easy enough to enjoy candy, Lunchables, and adorable animals (the company of a cat was often more preferable to that of a person anyway) to keep up the image of sweet, innocent Toki. He played the part, he even tried his damn hardest to live it. It was the only way to keep himself marketable and the rest of the band happy. They talked about him behind his back when he drank too much and dropped the childish front, and when something pushed him over the edge and all he could see was red, they seemed to fear him for days afterwards.

He never expected anyone to really understand, let alone meet someone who felt the same way. And of course when they first met, Toki figured he’d have to keep up the same appearance as always, but there was something compelling about this man who’d saved his life. Spending time with him was more enjoyable than anything else had been in recent memory, and yet something behind those dead eyes drew Toki in and made him drop his guard more often than he’d have liked. He was just so easy to talk and open up to. Initially they had bonded quite predictably over shit talking the bad, but over time (and several drinks and a little spurring on) Toki noticed that he was beginning to open up, too.

In time, their relationship began to appear almost enviable to anyone on the outside, however to the rest of the band, it was nothing but a ticking time bomb. No one at Mordhaus approved of the time he spent with their ex-guitarist. It drove Skwisgaar up the wall, made Nathan treat him like a child, and caused Rockso to stop talking to him entirely. Even Offdensen had nothing but scorn for his decisions.

 _He’s just lying to you,_ they kept telling him, _he’s not the kind of guy you think he is. He’s a narcissistic asshole, you know. He’ll just use you and throw you away after getting what he wants. Your ‘friend’ is not the real Magnus Hammersmith._

But they didn’t have to tell him that. He knew. As sure as the teeth sinking into his neck, as sure as the hair he tangled his fingers through and the back he dug his nails into, Toki knew. The man he presented as wasn’t the _real_ Magnus. This man had just unleashed the festering rot of his heart onto Toki through his fists and nails, screaming insults and threats alike mere seconds before wiping the tears from Toki’s face and whispering so softly how they were meant for each other. _This_ was the real Magnus, and no matter the way they came out of his mouth, Toki loved every single word he uttered to him.

Once they had both exposed their repugnant cores to each other, they no longer had to pretend while they were together. It was freeing. Toki had never punched someone so hard in his life. He had equally never been kissed so hard, especially by the bloody grinning lips he’d just stained his knuckles on. Between them it was disgusting, brutal honesty and nothing more. While they clashed so violently because they saw themselves and all their failures in the other, the magnetism between them was just as strong because they had found solace the moments of freedom they provided each other.

Every time he’d return home, body aching but a weight off his chest, Toki heard it over and over again. _He was always so conceited and selfish, and suddenly incredibly violent and unpredictable. He only pretends to care. He’ll snap again. He’s crazy._

Every time they tried to warn him like this, Toki had only ever imagined himself.

If Magnus was rotten to the core, then, happily, so was he.

As sure as the blood that trickled down his collarbone and the mouth that kissed it away.


	2. Autolatry+Capernoited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autolatry - The worship of one’s self.  
> Capernoited - Slightly intoxicated or tipsy.
> 
> (AU where Magnus isn’t kicked out and Toki’s just a kid that’s a huge fan of Dethklok in their younger/growing days and sees them as inspiration.

“You were so cools up there!”

_I know._

“Keep practicing kid and one day maybe you’ll get as good as me.”

_Yeah right._

“Oh I don’ts thinks I could ever bes as good as you! Not in a millions years!”

_Of course not._

The concert had just ended a short while ago and the band had begun packing up their equipment after the encore. After putting away his own things Magnus sat at the bar while he watched the others help each other put the rest away. Sweat drenched and already half way to drunk, Magnus was absolutely glowing. He loved coming down to mingle with the commoners, sitting casually at the bar where fans would always flock to him and near enough kiss the ground he walked on. He could hardly contain the enjoyment he got from it all, and as his cheeks grew warmer and numb with alcohol and self-importance, he often found himself grinning at the people who lined up just for the chance to shake hands with their idol. And he rarely accepted handshakes these days anyway – they always reached out with sweaty, filthy hands… And, admittedly, he enjoyed the crestfallen look they gave him when he rejected it, with or without an excuse. From the middle aged obese basement dweller to the skinny pasty looking kids riddled in acne and too-tough looking accessories, Magnus judged every single one of his fans and felt that much better about himself each time. He wasn’t just incredibly good looking and taller than most people (everyone, even Skwisgaar, had to look up at him), he was also incredibly talented and the leading creative and musical force behind a band skyrocketing in popularity. What were these pathetic nerds and failures compared to him? He could step on their fat, sweaty faces and they’d still offer to lick his boots clean.

But this kid didn’t seem like the typical groupie, and this must have been his first concert. Magnus would have remembered meeting a second person with such a grating accent. He considered playing it up a little. Milk the kid for all the praise and veneration he was worth. Magnus offered out his own hand this time.

“What was your name again?”

“Toki! Toki Wartooth!” He took Magnus’ hand and gave a weak shake, but Magnus corrected it with a firm pump.

“It’s nice to meet you, Toki.”

_I’ll forget your name before the night’s over, but you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life._

“I was just wonderings, woulds you sign this?” Toki presented their newest album and a permanent marker hurriedly. He cast a glance back at the stage before returning his attention to Magnus.

“…Of course.” He took both items and signed the cover, but as he did so, he noticed Toki’s gaze move toward the stage again. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, I just thinks they ams finallies done pickings up their stuff. I gotsta catch Skwisgaar.”

If Magnus had still been writing, he probably would have fumbled his own signature.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a real dick to male fans after shows.” He almost shoved the album and marker back into Toki’s hands.

“No ways! He’s always a real cool guys to me! I talks to him after every shows!”

Magnus’ face twisted as the pleasant buzz was ripped from him.

“I reallies thinks he coulds be the fastest guitars player I’ve ever heard! They evens talks about him in Norways!”

As Magnus fought for words, Toki looked past him and smiled widely. Magnus didn’t even have time to turn around.

“Thanks for signings my albums! I gotsta runs! You gots a real big line anysway.” And with that the kid zipped past him. Magnus turned around to see him dash through the crowded venue, stopping only once he reached Skswisgaar’s side. Upon seeing Toki, Skwisgaar gave him a smile, a sickeningly genuine smile, and it alone was the last straw.

“Um… Could I get you to sign this, too?”

The line had moved up and as Magnus faced forward again, liquid fury coursed through his veins at the sheer _impudence_ he had just been victim to. He didn’t even process the girl in front of him.

“E-excuse me, Mr. Hammersm-”

Snarling, he slapped the fan’s hand away, knocking her album and pen to the floor. The disc rolled out of the sleeve and on to the sticky venue floor, but Magnus pushed viciously past her and everyone else in his way.

He was greatest thing in the entire fucking building.

He wanted – he _deserved_ – everything.

So why wouldn’t everyone just fucking give it to him?


	3. Making Rent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Drabble prompt for prostitution/client. AU where Magnus isn't an ex-member and is actually just some prostitute or smth idk]

Toki found hiding his sexuality to be difficult. Though he had a relatively low sex drive, especially compared to his bandmates, there were times he simply didn’t want to spend the night alone. Sleeping with groupies was the obvious choice when it came to women. But rumors and gossip spread like wildfire among fans. It was difficult when word of mouth wasn’t enough regarding who got to sleep with whom and eventually candid cameras became involved far more often than Offdensen would have liked.

But sleeping with female fans was expected and had no real repercussions.Though he wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he was, Toki knew the band wouldn’t be able to hear anything but “Toki is gay” if it ever got out that he had slept with a male fan. It was not something he wanted to _ever_ reach the band’s ears, even if it sounded like it was just another rumor. He enjoyed the way things were and never wanted anything to change in their relationship. It was just so much easier letting them believe what they wanted to believe.

But during his loneliest nights, the fact that he had options was often all he could think about. He was fucking loaded _._ He couldn’t help but imagine how much easier it would be to just pay someone who wouldn’t want to sleep with him because of his fame. Though he knew being in it for money was arguably no better, dishing out a _bit_ more than the usual going rate could also serve as a bribe to keep his temporary companion silent. And though he had his doubts that someone of such a persuasion could be trusted to a deal, one particularly drunk night out partying with the band, he gave in to pride and temptation. After watching Skwisgaar get pulled from his side at the bar by a herd of women until they were well out the door, and unwilling to be the only one sleeping alone tonight when even Murderface had somehow found someone, Toki made his decision.

He couldn’t remember when they’d met, or if anyone had seen him walk out with another man, but he would never forget those almost frightening brown eyes and the way their alluring gaze drew him in so effortlessly. At some point he had offered his _services_ and, money no object tonight, Toki eagerly accepted.

But as his intoxication began to fade during the all too complicated hotel check in process, Toki fought off the desire to back out of the commitment. But the second he began crafting up excuses, the keycard was handed to him and, led by a warm hand to the elevator, he found himself drawn back to the idea. Once in the room, Toki admitted his conditions and arranged payment for the man who called himself Magnus Hammersmith (Toki nearly laughed upon hearing the name; it sounded rather obviously chosen for the job) but afterwards could only stand around awkwardly, unsure of what he even wanted, let alone how encounters such as these were supposed to work. But Toki had told himself – and the man - that it was to be a one-time thing. Just once. He would just take care of business and wash his hands of the whole ordeal after tonight and never see this man again.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen…” The man drew closer, and Toki backed into the bed behind him, stumbling down onto the mattress in his lingering buzz.

“I-I don’t reallies know what yet…”

“That’s alright.” The man sat down at his side and Toki turned slightly to face him, his eyes getting caught in that magnetic gaze once again. The warm hand that had led him earlier now rested on his thigh as the man smiled back at him, leaning in close. “I know where to begin.”

Toki felt his heart nearly lurch out of his chest as their lips made contact. He knew it was wrong and pathetic, but the moment their lips touched his jaw fell immediately to invite Magnus in, and he knew this was what he’d wanted.

\--

Scoping the building from the corner of the venue as the other four members slunk off with their partners, Magnus had noticed Toki’s disinterest in his clamoring female fans. He figured it was worth a shot to try his luck at swaying Toki’s mood, and he quickly found he had been correct in assuming that a Dethklok member would pay well.

Magnus would promise him all the confidentiality he wanted. He would gladly do (or let Toki do) anything he wanted for the amount of money he’d been presented. It was twice his rent money in a single night. Even with three jobs selling every ounce of his dignity, he could barely make ends meet, and with blow burning through his earnings, oftentimes he couldn’t. He didn’t give a shit about stirring up the media or bragging that he fucked Toki Wartooth of Dethklok. If he could play his cards right, he’d never have to worry about his power being shut off at his glorified dumpster of an apartment again, and if he could keep the deal going, it meant less nights he had to sleep there or any of the usual trashy motels he typically serviced in. This hotel was incredible. Bright, clean walls, crisp white sheets that smelled of fresh detergent rather than old fetid stains… He had never been in such a nice place, and had certainly never dreamed of sleeping in one. As Toki stood around nervously, Magnus knew he needed to make him as comfortable and happy as possible.

“Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen…” He took a few steps closer and Toki retreated, tripping back onto the bed. This type of customer was not uncommon. Magnus knew just how to work them. They were always eager after the initial hurdle was passed, and Toki was no different. Even feeding off the loneliness of others had a formula.

_I’ll be all yours. Anything you want, whenever you want…_

_If you want me all to yourself, you can have me._

_Use me however you like._

_You’re usually alone right? You don’t have to be, you know…_

_I won’t see anyone else if you’ll see me again._

He worked his tongue in more ways than one through the night, watching with anticipation as every sugarcoated word sunk into Toki’s mind, shaking his resolve. A mixture of praise and surrendering himself was all Magnus needed to snare his client in the irresistible temptation of feeling wanted. He would do everything in his power to make Toki beg for more, to make him come back to him every month until it was every week. Hell, he’d fill up every night for a week for a single payment if it meant keeping Toki hooked and his finances secure.

And his manipulation worked.

Toki couldn’t get the man out of his head for days. In his pocket, his fingers constantly brushed over the phone number scribbled over a piece of paper torn from the hotel notepad until it had begun to wear thin. When Toki lost himself in alcohol again, he finally had the courage to call. But this night he wanted nothing more than the company of someone else. Someone who listened and would do anything he asked.

Their encounters continued and Toki found himself willing to pay any price to ensure they would not end. He no longer had any reservations or shame about hiring this man who sought to every single one of his emotional and physical needs however and whenever he needed it. The money he spent every week was nothing to him now. What else was it for? Every penny was worth spending the night in someone’s arms. He didn’t have to worry about waking up to face the morning alone. He bought himself love, he bought himself company, he could buy himself everything he wanted, and yet, more painfully than ever before, when he’d glance across the stage he’d see him, illuminated in bright lights, hair veiling his sweaty face - the one thing he could not buy that Toki wanted more than anything else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be with you, to be the one  
> To live a lie  
> It really got me excited  
> I felt wanted  
> \- Sordid Affair (Royksopp)


	4. Therapy Didn't Help But You Did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble from a request for Toki/Abigail in a "falling in love with their best friend’s partner AU." I can't write happy things apparently.

Toki knew he loved too easily. But he never suspected that he’d wake up to a creeping realization trapped in his chest. It was only when Abigail told him she was finishing therapy that he noticed how his feelings had changed.

It had only been a month since the he and Abigail had been rescued from their captivity. Soon after being cleared from the hospital, they had both been admitted into therapy together. Getting through therapy was harder than he could have imagined, but having Abigail, who had shared many of his experiences and had seen and been with him through the worst made handling both the resurfacing memories and the changes at Mordhaus easier; and many things had certainly changed since he’d been locked away.

Offdensen had gone off somewhere without a single word to Toki. Apparently he’d had the courtesy of saying goodbye to the rest of the band, left them at the time they needed him the most, as Murderface had put it, but the last time Toki had seen Offdensen was at the funeral. Coming back to find the one stable and never-faltering figure had completely disappeared had left yet another hole in his heart. Toki missed him so much it hurt, but of course he didn’t have the mind to talk about it to anyone but his therapists - and Abigail. The band skirted around the entire incident as if it had never happened and kept a small but noticeable distance from Toki both emotionally and physically. Pickles was still obviously bothered by something, but Toki couldn’t tell if it was Offdensen’s absence or Nathan’s decision to still pursue Abigail romantically after the shitshow that was the funeral and its preceding events.

It hadn’t really bothered him before. He was happy that they were happy, and that was it. He still had Abigail every day to talk to at therapy, and oftentimes they’d hang out before or after sessions, getting a bite to eat, trying to find something else than their shared experiences to talk about for once. Even after they’d been rescued, her kind and caring demeanor had never changed around him, though she often proved she wasn’t afraid to raise hell when someone got on her nerves. And Toki liked that about her. It was soon he found that only Abigail really understood _anything_ about him and that she had, over time, begun to fill the place left by his former best friend. But this time, he told himself, there was no way he could get hurt. He knew her inside and out now, just as she knew him.

But he didn’t completely understand the difference between the two until her final day of therapy.

“Hey, come on. Smile.” Jacket draped over an arm, ready to leave for the last time, Abigail playfully tapped his chin to bring Toki’s drooping head up. “I’ll see you all the time. I promise if Nathan’s ever being boring, I’ll come hang out with you.” She gave him a reassuring smile, but Toki only smiled back weakly.

“Yeahs…” He couldn’t look back into those beautiful green eyes without feeling ashamed of how jealous he was of Nathan.

“How many more do you have?”

“Abouts a months… And thens some small ones after thats…”

“You can do it, Toki. You’re going to get through this just fine. All the hard parts are already over.”

Toki swallowed against the lump in his throat. Not just yet.

“Yups…” His voice was frail and shook and he knew she could tell he was about to cry. She’d seen this plenty of times.

And suddenly he was in her arms, held tightly in her warm embrace as her hand stroked the back of his head comfortingly.

“We have to get on with our lives, you know?” Her voice was soft.

Throat too tight to even try to speak, Toki nodded as she pulled back, giving him one last kiss on the cheek. He felt his face flush as she turned her attention to pulling her jacket on and desperately tried to will the redness gone before she looked back up.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Sees you.”

She smiled, laced with clear concern, as she finally began to leave before stopping and looking back abruptly.

“Oh and Toki?”

He felt his heart skip a beat.

“This doesn’t mean you’re in this alone now. Your brothers are here for you.”

“I knows!” He gave her a strong, fake grin, finally allowing her to leave.

But his face fell as soon as she was gone, barely holding himself together at the seams.

The fact that they had saved him didn’t mean much. The band wasn’t there for him. Offdensen wasn’t there for him. And he didn’t want to lose the only one who had been a second time.

Toki ran a hand through his hair with a heavy, shaking sigh. After being together almost every day for the past two months, only now did he realize how deeply he had fallen in love with Abigail.

But there was nothing he could do now. And honestly, there never had been.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on Toki don't be like that. 
> 
> Also therapy helped a lot, I promise. I just kinda liked that title so here we are lol.


	5. Unprofessional Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun Magnus/Charles crackship AU detailing Magnus' trying to appeal to Charles in order to stay with the band after stabbing Nathan. Bonus silly plot twist just because I can.

He had been wrongfully removed from the band. This Magnus was absolutely certain of. Surely Offdensen would agree with him in the privacy of his office, away from the pressure of the other four. If it was just one on one, he _knew_ he could get Offdensen to come around. And yet, while Magnus had never been one to beg when he could demand, no matter how he tried to appeal, Offdensen remained as resolute and unyielding as ever in the band’s verdict.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Magnus, sitting at Offdensen’s desk, his left eye masked by a medical patch, had been growing more and more frustrated by the second.

“You _stabbed_ Nathan in the shoulder. There’s nothing more to say.”

“You can’t just let this happen. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be – if this band’s gonna make it, you need me.”

“It was a unanimous decision by the band members themselves, Magnus. I don’t have a say in it.”

“But you’re the fucking manager! You make the rules, right? You get to make these decisions! Just say it’s because of some contract bullshit, they’d never know the difference! They’re complete idiots!”

“You should just be grateful Nathan didn’t take you to court.”

 _“Grateful?”_ he sneered, shaking his head slowly as he leant in closer on Offdensen’s desk. _“Grateful that I’m going to be half fucking blind? Grateful that I’m being kicked out of my own fucking band?”_

Offdensen adjusted his glasses, unfazed. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Trying to reason with Offdensen was like constantly running into a brick wall. Magnus needed to try a different approach.

“Just tell me that you’ll convince them.” Magnus pulled his chair closer to the desk, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Listen, Charles. You don’t need to side with them. You know they’re all too stupid to amount to anything. Without me this band is done and you’ll go down with it.” He slid his hand over to the center of the desk. “If you let me stay then we can both just go back to doing our jobs together. It’ll be hard to explain shit if I’m kicked out but we’re still seeing-”

“Magnus.” Offdensen folded his hands instead of reaching to meet the hand waiting for him.

A sense of dread washed over Magnus at his tone, his body language, his cold stare - though he was a little distant and a fair amount of awkward, _this_ wasn’t how he usually was when they were alone.

“Whatever this thing we have is... I think it’s time we end it.”

“…What?”

“We’re done.”

_“Seriously?”_

Offdensen, expression stoic as ever, back straight and hands still folded, remained still and unflinching even as Magnus withdrew his hand and suddenly reared back from the desk.

“You see this as your chance, huh?” His voice was growing frantic. “You had your fun with me and now you have the perfect opportunity to throw me out now that you’ve got your fill.”

“That isn’t it.”

“Then what is it!?”

He didn’t respond, but Offdensen’s eyes told Magnus all he needed to know. Things were beginning to make sense now. Not even Charles wanted him back in the band.

“You too, huh?” He spoke through a pained smile and a dark laugh. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“You stabbed your friend.”

“HE’S NOT MY FUCKING FRIEND! I’VE SEEN THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HIM!” The sound of glass shattering was lost in his thunderous outburst. It was only in the deafening silence that followed that Offdensen tore his gaze from the now standing Magnus to the source of the only sound in the room – the soft _plip_ of blood falling to the wood of his desk. Magnus clutched his hand, a snarling grimace etched into his face as blood trickled down between his fingers. Offdensen’s gaze shot to the floor where his desk lamp lay in shattered pieces.

Offdensen finally rose to his feet. “I think you need to leave.”

“I always hated that about you! You hardly react, you- you don’t even blink at this shit! It’s like everything is just business to you! I guess at least I don’t have to feel weird about fucking a robot anymore!”

“Please don’t make me call the police.”

“So that’s it then?” He stretched his arms out and shrugged, backing away slightly and shaking his head. “This way you don’t ever have to see me again, right? Fine. All the shit I left at your place? Just keep it. Throw it out, burn it, I don’t give a fuck.” He turned the palm of his injured hand up and began digging his fingers into the largest cut. He gritted his teeth as he removed a large shard of glass from under his skin and tossed it onto Offdensen’s desk. “That’s all you’re getting back from me.”

Offdensen’s eyes didn’t stray from Magnus until he disappeared behind the door that was slammed shut so hard it rattled the filing cabinet in the corner of the room. And then, it was finally quiet. Relief washed over him, glad to have ended on such a positive note, as he allowed himself to sit again. Exhaling slowly, he peered down at the broken lamp. His office looked like a crime scene. Blood was stained and smeared on the lamp’s glass, on his desk, chair, rug, and doorknob… But it was all finally, _hopefully,_ done. Without such a dangerous secret tailing him he hoped soon his conscience would begin to clear.

 

* * *

* * *

~bonus gay epilogue~

* * *

* * *

 

 

Cleaning his office was simple enough and he could replace the broken lamp easily, but Offdensen put off gathering Magnus’ things for several days. But with the bitter taste in his mouth from their last encounter gone, he finally felt up to the task. He’d already long filed away all the sheet music and tabs they’d gone over together, unable to throw them away as barely-above-average as they were, leaving only clothing and miscellaneous things to account for. He dug up and sorted through several shirts, a pair of pants, socks missing their partners (which had been bothering the systematic Offdensen since Magnus had left them), a half empty carton of cigarettes and several hair ties that Offdensen himself had no use for. He considered donating what clothing he could instead of throwing them away, but the smell of smoke clung to the fabric even after being washed.

He set the salvageable clothing aside and threw the rest away, but moving past his closet, something black caught his eye. Pulling it out, his breath hitched in his throat. It was a leather jacket Magnus had given – _loaned_ he would have actually insisted – Offdensen several months back. He sat down on his bed and turned it over in his hands, unsure of what to do with it.

The memory surfaced without his permission.

_“You almost look like a different person with your hair like this.” Magnus tousled Offdensen’s already messy hair. They’d been lounging in bed together after messing around when Magnus felt the need to comment on his disheveled appearance. “And if you’d take these stupid things off for five minutes…” He pulled Offdensen’s glasses off with a devilish smirk, ignoring the glare that followed._

_“I need those to, ah, see. As it were.”_

_“Can you see me?”_

_“Yes but-”_

_“Then that’s all that matters.” Magnus twisted around and placed the glasses on the nightstand before catching sight of something on the floor. “Now with those off and with this,” he reached down and fished up his leather jacket, “you won’t look like such a fuckin’ uptight nerd. Put it on.”_

_Offdensen grudgingly complied, pulling the jacket over the shirt he had left on. He watched, trying to hide his embarrassment, as Magnus sized him up._

_“I just don’t, uh…think it’s my style.”_

_“I think you look good like this.”_

_“I look like you.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_Offdensen heaved a sigh as he began removing the jacket._

_“It’s a little small for me," Magnus added. "You should keep it for a while. Y’know, let loose one day when you’re not around the rest of the band and just try to have a little fun for once.” He shrugged. “If anything, you can just wear it for me when I drop by.”_

_He hated it when people nagged on him for being boring or too detached. He often took it as a challenge to prove that he wasn’t, which was probably why Magnus often accused him of it._

_“I guess I could, uh, try it out...” He felt he’d earned a brief moment of victory when the corners of Magnus’ mouth turned up slightly as he pulled the jacket on once more. And suddenly Magnus was kissing him hard, pressing him into the mattress as Offdensen wrapped his arms over his shoulders._

It had been months since then and, sitting in his room now jacket in hand, Offdensen knew he’d made the right choice. Even then, during one of the better periods in their rocky relationship, Magnus was a controlling, narcissistic, self-absorbed asshole. Back then it wasn’t clear just how dangerous he could be when he flipped out, but now Offdensen was certain neither he nor the band had any business being trapped in a relationship with someone like that. Everyone was better off without him. After all, they were just using each other for sex and to pretend they weren’t as lonely as they were. That was it. And that was all it had ever been. At least it had been for Offdensen.

But he needed to get his priorities straight now. In the past few days he could not escape the accusation Magnus had made about his feelings for Nathan but in the end, he took it as a wake-up call. As manager, he had a lot more to do than just his band members. The four had incredible promise and he needed to be focused and formal to do his job correctly. There was no longer any room for unprofessional encounters. He needed to be ready to devote his life to the band. They would need to find a new member very quickly and landing another Magnus would be far too risky.

Standing, he returned the leather jacket to its spot in the closet.

“Let loose one day, huh?” Offdensen sighed and shut the closet. He’d probably die before he found a reason to wear it again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> magnus you are a frickin sociopath ok
> 
> also i dont fucking know how to write offdensen's character im sorry
> 
> Also also please tell me you laughed at offdensen's inability to keep lamps unbroken in his office


	6. The Lion and the Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday present drabble for my good friend and Magnus/Toki enabler, Wartoothandnail. :3c He wanted fluffy so he got fluffy.  
> AU where Magnus gets in too deep with the whole 'befriend Toki' shit. Loosely related to my Thunderstorm drabble, if you wanna pretend that happened first. Also I tried a different writing style this time.

When he smiles it’s as if everything else has stopped existing.

When he laughs it’s like the darkness that has drenched him is illuminated for the first time in his life.

But that light comes from a fire that threatens to burn his world down, a fire that Magnus wants nothing more than engulf himself within completely.

Their fingers lace together and Magnus doesn’t know how this happened. He doesn’t know how he got here, lying together on his old couch, their bodies keeping each other warmer than the thin blanket draped over them. Magnus’ nose and mouth are buried in soft, straight hair and the scent of expensive conditioner lingers even as he slowly exhales. The rise and fall of Toki’s chest comforts him, reminding him that Toki is very much alive – and suddenly Magnus is struck with the thought that by next week, next month, he might not be, and that it might be because of him. His heart picks up and he hopes Toki can’t feel it on his back, but he does, and Toki drowsily flips over to face him, his eyes bright as daylight cutting straight into Magnus’ pounding heart.

When he asks what’s wrong, Magnus swallows back the rising, terrible, crushing truth that has been begging to escape. He shakes his head with a smile and a whisper of _‘nothing’_ and nothing more, lest his voice crack as his throat tightens. Trusting his word, Toki draws nearer and hugs his arm close to his chest, twisting both his hands around Magnus’. To reassure him, Magnus lightly brushes the thumb of his free hand along Toki’s cheekbone and when he smiles shyly and closes his eyes, his cheeks tinting slightly at the tickling touch, Magnus’ heart flutters.

How did he get here, completely enraptured by this boy whose innocence remained despite all that he had been through? How did they get to the point where Toki confided in him his past after Magnus had been shocked into silence at his scars? And how did he ever intend on scarring this boy in more unspeakable ways?

How did he get here?

Ah, yes.

A touched that stayed just too long, a gaze that yearned too visibly, a cold night and a kiss that led to another, and another, and another, until they both wanted something more from each other… Magnus had been swept away by it all too quickly.

His life until now was like trying to quench thirst with sand. But Toki was an oasis, an unexpected refuge from the loneliness and hatred he’d begun to believe were all he would ever have.

Toki opens an eye at Magnus’ distrait silence and frees a hand before ruffling it through his curly, graying hair. Fluffing it up even further, Toki comments on his lion-like appearance through a giggle. Sighing lightly, Magnus admits – more serious than not – that he would be much better off if Magnus actually were a lion. But Toki only laughs and states that though he loves lions, he loves Magnus even more. When he realizes what he’s said, his eyes go wide and his face strips itself of color. He pulls his hands away and begins to stammer up a clarification, but Magnus catches him before he rolls off the couch, pulling him back to where he belongs.

Magnus knows he shouldn’t feel the way he does at the confession, and he knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do. Their entire relationship was a patchwork of clichés Magnus had never dreamt of falling prey to. No, he’d never dreamt of falling for anything-

But he returns those three words anyway.

And he wants it to be a lie, like everything else was supposed to be.

But Toki smiles, his cheeks flushing red, red as the fire he’s ignited again, and Magnus knows it isn’t.


	7. Making Rent II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel drabble of sorts to the first Making Rent chapter, in which Magnus and Toki are a prostitute and client respectively. Written for a good friend's birthday because she loved AU of the first one so much!  
> Something happened and I fucked up and it rang in at almost 2900 words so I don't think this is actually a drabble at all wtf.

_i wants to see u tonight_

_oh and the nights afters!_

_u’s not busy rights?_

_helloooossssssssssss? :o_

_y amsnt u replying to my texts?_

_u knows how much this phones sucks to types on_

_if u’s gettings high agains i thinks we may needs to haves a talk :////_

 

Magnus lay in bed, staring at the bright screen of his phone until it went black. His body shivered despite the blanket pulled tightly around him, still fighting off the chill in his bones and muscles. His pillow was soaked and cold from his still-dripping hair. After less than an hour in, the water in his shower had grown cold, but Magnus remained, sitting under the freezing water for hours until he could no longer bear the numbness he’d initially welcomed. Without properly drying himself, he’d dressed and curled up in his bed only to stare at all the messages he’d missed throughout the day.

Soundlessly, the screen lit up again, illuminating the darkness around him.

_ams u ok? :(_

Magnus grimaced and threw the cellphone against the wall.

 

* * *

 

Toki’s finger hovered over the keyboard of his phone. The second day of no replies was drawing to a close. In their several months of relations, Magnus had never denied Toki a single request and his replies were always timely, save for a few isolated incidents where he was too high to remember how to work his phone. Toki had suspected such at first but by now he would have at least said _something_. But he was annoyed just as much as he was concerned - he was on a tight schedule and had wanted Magnus to spend two days and nights with him in a row, but getting in contact with him yesterday had been impossible and today’s efforts were beginning to look just as fruitless. Growing desperate to elicit any sort of response, Toki finally began typing.

_u reallys must not needs the moneys huh >:/_

He regretted hitting send as soon as his finger touched the screen but he opted out of a follow up, hoping the threat might finally break through. And in less than ten minutes, his phone buzzed.

_I’m sorry for the late reply. I’ve been really sick. Can I just take the rest of the week off?_

Toki had to read the message twice to process everything. He was extremely relieved to finally hear something back, but the annoyance now turned to frustration. Instead of texting he called back, no longer patient enough for the suspense of a back and forth. When Magnus finally answered the phone, Toki nearly jumped down his throat.

“We needs to see each other tonight. I means, I’m sure you cans guess whys…”

Magnus took a moment before speaking again. “Toki, I’m sick-”

“I don’ts care. It’ll be fines. Ands you mights even feels better!”

“…Right.” Toki didn’t hear the faint scoff in his tired voice.

“I wanted to see you yesterdays _and_ todays but I guess you didn’t want the moneys,” Toki repeated, expecting Magnus to shrug the half serious threat off and laugh like he always did. But this time there was nothing but complete silence on the other end of the phone. “…Magnus?”

“…I look like shit.”

“I tolds you I don’t cares. The bands is out of towns so its perfects. I reallies had to fight to stays back justs so I could sees you for this, so we can’ts waste it!”

“…Alright.” His tone seemed uncertain and unwilling, but Toki was just glad he conceded at all. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

“Just brings you! At the usuals place!”

“…Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Previously resigned to his plans for the night falling through, Toki arrived at the hotel as quickly as possible, getting things in order in his excitement. The knock at the door came later than he’d hoped, but knowing there was still time to do what he wanted, Toki tried not to let it ruin the night. Magnus was finally here and that was all he needed.

Toki rushed to the door and opened it with a wide grin – and then froze dead in place. For a split second, he thought a stranger had knocked on his door instead, for Magnus would never have any reason to look like… _this_. But it was undeniably Magnus standing at the door, his face drained of color, bruises littering his face and neck. The skin around his left eye was painted with red and yellow, but even more striking was the bright red in splashed across his sclera.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“What the fucks happeneds to you?” Toki was finding something new every second his eyes scanned Magnus’ face.

“I told you I look like shit.”

“But what happeneds!?”

Magnus gave a weary smile and shrugged. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

Toki didn’t know exactly what he meant, but he had a good idea. “You saws someone else…?”

“No- no I didn’t-” Magnus choked on his words, swallowing and looking down as if he knew this was coming. “I swear to god I’ve only been seeing you. Look, we don’t need to talk about this right now, do we?” He pushed himself into the room and shut the door behind him as Toki fumed.

“Of course we dos! How did this happens?”

Magnus stared down at Toki, inhaling slowly as he gathered his nerve. “It was just an old client,” he began, shaking his head as if dismissing the matter entirely. “He used to be a regular but I haven’t been seeing anyone else besides you... And he took it personally. He found where I live and-” there was the slightest hesitation- “he took what he wanted. But that’s it.”

 _“That’s it?”_ Toki didn’t realize how harshly the words came out. He’d intended on questioning Magnus’ nonchalant explanation on something so serious, but Magnus interpreted it differently.

“Y-yeah, that’s it. I swear,” Magnus replied, clearly trying his best to seem unaffected. “I’m sorry, I overreacted. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. I shouldn’t have ignored your texts. My job comes first and-”

“What? No, no it doesn’ts!”

Magnus held his tongue but his expression spoke volumes, begging the question clear as day: “Then why am I here right now?”

Toki’s heart sank – he’d never felt like such an enormous dick. In his excitement for tonight, he hadn’t picked up on any of Magnus’ hints on the phone. This was no longer a situation where he could play games – it never had been, but he just hadn’t been paying enough attention. He needed to come clean.

“If you wants to goes homes, you cans go-”

“Please don’t fire me,” Magnus pleaded in masked panic, stepping forward. “I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen again.”

“I’m nots gonna fires you,” Toki reassured, “but befores you goes, at leasts this may makes you comings all the way heres worth somethings.” Toki grabbed Magnus’ hand and turned, heading towards the bed. He felt resistance in Magnus step, but thought nothing of it as he approached the mattress and dropped to his knees, fishing for something under the bed.

“Toki, I- could I just have the rest of today off? I swear tomorrow I’ll-”

His thoughts left him as Toki slid something, something much different than he’d been expecting, out from the bed’s shams. Though the contents of the very specifically shaped case were obvious, Toki hoisted it up and offered it over to Magnus with a nervous smile.

Magnus’ eyes widened as the black guitar case was handed to him, too bewildered to even touch it.

“What…?”

“Opens it.”

When Magnus just looked on in confusion, Toki placed it on the bed, urging Magnus once more with a nod towards the case. Magnus finally stepped forward and tentatively unlocked the latches and lifted the top to reveal a glossy black electric guitar.

“I don’t understand-”

“Happys birthdays, Magnus. What’s lefts of it at leasts...”

Jaw dropping, Magnus quickly withdrew his phone from his pocket, gaping down at the date through the shattered screen. Toki knew today was indeed his birthday, though he had less than two hours of the day remaining. It had been something he’d weaseled out of Magnus at some point months ago and had been preparing for it ever since. While Toki had planned two days of fun things to do together, Magnus had simply just…forgotten his own birthday, it seemed. But considering the circumstances, he didn’t blame him in the slightest.

“Is it the ones you likeds…? A Les Pauls, rights?”

“I don’t…” He struggled to find the words that just wouldn’t form. “You’re just… _giving_ this to me?”

“I knows you saids you solds your guitars a long time agos, but it soundeds likes you reallies regretted it…so I just thoughts…” Toki peered up from his hands to gauge Magnus’ reaction. He looked like he was fighting something back, licking his lips as he tried to find the right thing to say.

“You know you're not supposed to give birthday gifts to prostitutes, right?” he finally laughed nervously. “Or any gifts for that matter.”

“But you _ams_ supposed to gives them to people importants to you.” Shrugging lightly, Toki offered a weak but reassuring smile.

Rendered speechless, Magnus bit the pad of his thumb, looking back down at the guitar. His eyebrows knitting as he struggled to keep a straight face.

“Uhm- I…” Without even blinking, tears neither of them had realized had been building up slid down his cheeks. Magnus’ arm shot up, wiping them away with his sleeve and covering his eyes with his forearm. His face tilted up as he took a deep breath and sighed out the oncoming surge of emotions, desperately trying to keep himself collected. “Toki, what the fuck.” It was all he could mange.

Toki just stood there trying not to panic himself, uncertain of what the reaction meant. Though he’d seen Magnus in nearly every way imaginable, he’d never seen him cry.

“I can gets you a rides home-”

“Can I stay?” Magnus interrupted, his eyes still covered. “I’d rather be with you than have him drop by again.”

“I actuallies wanteds you to.” Unsure of what to do and even more uncertain of how to comfort him, Toki tentatively slipped his arms under Magnus’ and pulled him into a hug, but feeling Magnus tense up at the touch, Toki straightened himself out and let go, giving him space as Magnus finally removed his arm from his eyes. His face had gone white.

And Toki suddenly understood what Magnus had been fearing the entire time. Everything Magnus had said, all the cues and reactions Toki hadn’t picked up on, everything finally clicked. He’d been so _oblivious_.

“I’m sorries, I wasn’t thinkings…” Toki wanted to kick himself for not being clear from the beginning, all in an attempt to surprise Magnus. “I didn’ts wants to have sex, I just thoughts we could go outs for once and do somethings funs for your birthdays…”

The only word Magnus could summon was a soft “oh” as he dropped his gaze to the floor, unconsciously rubbing the bruise under his left eye. Now close enough to actually gauge the damage, Toki leant in a bit more, his attention drawn back to the discolored skin, but when Magnus’ eyes shot back up to his, the black eye became the least of his worries. Though he’d seen the solid, bright red of his sclera earlier, from the distance Toki hadn’t noticed the cloudiness of Magnus’ pupil. The severity of the injury made Toki’s stomach churn.

“Whens was the last times you wents to the doctors?”

Still trying to regain his composure, Magnus laughed dryly, ridiculing the thought. “The last time I went I think my fucking mom took me.”

“And how manys years ago was thats?”

“You’re not getting my age that easily.”

Toki shot Magnus a glare. For once finding out his age hadn’t actually been his goal.

“Wells, I thinks you should visits soon…”

“With what insurance?”

“Where ams all that moneys goings?”

“Living…expenses…” Magnus looked away in guilt as he spoke, and Toki knew what he really meant. He’d been able to pay his rent, but the extra went straight into his veins. Still, Toki was aware that it wasn’t his place to tell Magnus where to put the money he earned. Neither of them had any obligation to the other outside of their terms of business. That much had been established within their first few visits. “I think I may start looking for a new apartment…” Magnus ran a hand through his hair as he thought, but Toki didn’t hear him as he caught sight of something he’d never seen before.

“Holy shits! Your hairs ams growings in white!”

“I told you I looked like shit today,” Magnus sighed, covering the graying roots at his forehead with his hand.

“You dyes your hairs?” Toki’s were wide in astonishment. So Magnus _was_ older than he thought.

“It’s just in the front,” Magnus fired back, scowling down at Toki. “And stop trying to guess my age.”

Toki pressed his lips together, trying not to make light of the situation still at hand. He was still concerned about Magnus’ condition. Besides his black eye, if he hadn’t even been tested…

“Maybes tomorrow we cans goes to the doctors…”

“You’ll have to pay me to go,” Magnus replied, unenthused. “To go _and_ cover the costs.”

“Fines.”

“…Wait, what?”

“It ams my healths too, you knows. And your eyes looks reallies bad. How much cans you sees from it?”

Instantly, Magnus’ face was wiped clear of expression. Toki waited for a reply but all he was given was a sigh.

“Magnus?”

“A blind eye isn’t gonna be a turn off, is it…?” He gave a surprisingly pitiful, sheepish smile.

“ _Blinds?_ ” Toki nearly yelled the word, stepping closer as if examining the injured eye further would provide evidence to deny it. “We needs to go to the doctors right nows! Maybes they can saves it or somethings-”

“Toki, it’s been three days. I think I’ve missed my chance.”

“It ams not too late-” Toki was cut short by the hand at the side of his face, gently tucking the hair framing his face behind his ear. A shiver rolled down his spine. He both loved and hated how Magnus knew just how to get to him, though he knew learning what got Toki’s heart racing was just part of his job.

“I’m not good as I used to be on the guitar, you know,” Magnus said, calmly gazing down at Toki. “My birthday isn’t over just yet. Will you teach me?”

Even battered and bruised, Magnus was still just as charming. Even though he had been stammering and crying just minutes ago, Magnus was back on his game and Toki was falling for it, just like he did again and again. Of course he would teach him. He’d wanted to from the beginning. But as Magnus looked at him, the sensation from his touch still lingering on his skin, Toki realized he wanted Magnus to kiss him even more. He wasn’t used to being starved for contact when Magnus was around, but, recalling the way he tensed at something as simple as a hug, Toki knew now was not the time to be selfish.

So Toki conceded. As Toki removed the guitar, Magnus pulled the lounge sofa closer to the bed so they could face each other. As he helped guide Magnus’ fingers along the fretboard, Toki couldn’t help but wallow in his own self pity. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this for some fucking drug addicted prostitute. Ever since they met he reminded himself over and over that Magnus was interested in only two things – money and blow – and that he would do anything to keep himself in Toki’s employment for those two rewards alone. His career could be over in minutes if word got out. He’d lose his friends and fans and reputation. And then even Magnus would leave him once Toki couldn’t pay him.

But for now, Magnus was his and his alone. And then a thought crossed Toki’s mind: somewhere out there was a man responsible for hurting and using what was his. He vowed to later pull whatever information Magnus had on the man from him. With Offdensen busy with the rest of the band, getting a Klokateer to take out the trash wouldn’t be too difficult.

Peering over at Magnus through a furtive, narrow glance, Toki watched his lifeless eyes spark with something new, something almost happy. It was happiness from getting a guitar, happiness from not losing his job, happiness from being paid to see a doctor, happiness from not having to have sex when he was so certain he’d have to – Toki was convinced that it was happiness that stemmed from everything but Toki himself. This man had slowly begun to replace the painful yearning that had plagued his mind and heart before they met. But he no longer knew what was worse – wanting to be with someone he could never have…or having someone who would never want him back.


	8. What You Weren't Meant To Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very short drabble from two tiny drabble requests kinda mixed - "things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear" + "things you said when you thought i was asleep"

Toki slowly opened his eyes, still trapped in a sleepy daze. While he was warm, the stiff, painful mattress under him was unmistakable. After a night of moderate drinking and laughing at shitty horror movies, he must’ve fallen asleep on Magnus’ couch, which, as he’d earlier learned, Magnus preferred over his own bed. Magnus must have carried him off to his room to reclaim the couch for himself. Still too intoxicated to move much, Toki’s eyes moved to the half shut door. Save for the flashing glow and the accompanying low hum seeping past it from the TV in the living room, the lights were off throughout the quiet apartment. Eyelids heavy, Toki felt himself drifting off again when the sound of shattering glass erupted from the kitchen. If he hadn’t been so drowsy, he would have jumped out of his skin. A light in the kitchen flipped on, and just as Toki tried to push himself up to help Magnus with whatever had broken, an exchange of voices froze him in place.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me. That was my good mug, asshole.”

“Don’t waste my time. You know why I’m here.” The voice was unfamiliar and so deep Toki could barely understand it through the walls.

“Yeah, well, he just left. Look, I told you already. Don’t worry about what I’m doing. I have it under control.”

“I’m getting tired of waiting, Magnus.”

“I want to see his blood run just as much as you do, alright? I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You have one week until I take care of him myself. We need him alive, so do not fail me or you’ll be joining him on my table.”

Blood rushing through his veins like ice, Toki strained his ears for another word, another sound, but could hear nothing. And then the light turned off, leaving him in pitch black, and the sound of someone approaching filled the silence. Terrified, he couldn’t do anything other than fall back down to the pillow and close his eyes, pretending to be fast asleep. He forced himself to be still even at the creak of the door being pushed open, even as a presence neared, hovered over him, and reached out for him – only to grab the blankets that had fallen from Toki when he sat up and carefully pull them over his shoulders. The smell of smoke even stronger than that imbued into the pillows filled his nose as the presence stood over him for just a moment longer. There was a sigh above him, and suddenly it was all gone as the door squeaked just shy of shut.

Toki woke the next morning with a hangover, the faint recollection of what he prayed was only a dream, and the gnawing, clinging fear that the man who was kindly making him breakfast was not at all what he seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5am sorry if it sucks. Anyway, there's a few more drabble requests coming up soon!


	9. Know Your Exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Magnus and Skwisgaar have a weird relationship even after Magnus is kicked out of the band, which Magnus (as always) reacts badly to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> without spoiling anything, this fic does have a general content warning like drug abuse, dub con, and some other things.

Magnus swallowed. The straight alcohol burned his throat but he forced himself not to gag as everything went down.

Tonight was going to be the night, Magnus had decided. There was no other choice.

Magnus stared back at himself in the dirty mirror, his hand still wrapped around the bottle he’d just emptied in a single shot. Though his image swayed as the room around him spun, he could tell his right pupil had constricted drastically since injecting and his face had at some point had gone bone-white. While his right eye was moderately red, either from the constant stream of drugs or the insomnia that had been plaguing his nights, the vibrant, solid red that had filled the whites of his left eye still stood out like some kind of joke. Paired with its cloudy, grey pupil and iris, he looked like some kind of cheaply designed villain out of a bad horror movie.

Unable to stand, let alone focus, much longer, Magnus peeled away from the counter, stumbling along the wall for support until he was back into his living room. Before he could even feel the pain, he was on the floor, his jaw ringing from the impact. The sting from the carpet burn along his chin crept up slowly on him, but even though he knew he should be hurting, most sensations were no longer registering.

He knew he was a fucking mess, but he remained in place, eyes still open and staring at nothing, as he tried to convince himself to stand again. But he was too far detached from himself now. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything…besides how pathetic he would have looked like if someone had discovered him on the ungraceful floor. If he dragged himself to the couch, at the very least, he wouldn’t have to move again, he rationalized. Pushing himself up, a wave of nausea and lightheadedness crashed into him. Inhaling sharply, he shifted to his feet just before his elbows gave out. Setting the couch as his goal, he slid up the wall and hobbled closer until he could push off the wall to close the distance between himself and the back of the couch, gripping it with sweating hands. Navigating the mess on the floor around the arm of the sofa, Magnus didn’t even have the chance to lower himself before a violent knock at his door disrupted his focus. He stared at the door, willing the unwanted visitor to just fucking leave, but the knock came again, louder, and now accompanied by a voice.

“Opens up! I knows you ams homes!”

Of fucking course.

Magnus cringed. He’d left the door unlocked earlier on purpose, but as the doorknob turned, he deeply regretted the decision.

Skwisgaar strode in like he owned the place, closing in on Magnus like a hungry dog.

“Why won’ts you answers your phones, huh?” Skwisgaar questioned, tilting his head to meet Magnus’ drifting gaze. “Ams you highs? Or drunks?”

“Both. Now go away,” Magnus groaned, trying to turn away from Skwisgaar and finally seat himself only for Skwisgaar to grasp him by the shoulder to turn him around. The sudden tug shook him with dizziness and his knees buckled, causing him to reach out for the closest thing to hold on to – unfortunately, Skwisgaar.

“You should have calleds me, we coulds have gottens fucked up togethers.” Skwisgaar moved his grip to Magnus’ upper arms and tightened his hold as Magnus struggled to stay standing.

“J-just…go home.” A shiver ran down his spine as Skwisgaar pressed his lips at the junction of his neck and shoulders, kissing lightly.

“I’m hornies.”

“Come back in… an hour or two…”

“You’ll be asleeps, idiots.”

Then Skwisgaar began to kiss more openly up and down his neck, and Magnus could no longer support himself in the slightest. His legs gave out, but Skwisgaar caught him, lowering the two of them down to the couch behind them, wasting no time straddling his ex-bandmate and pressing him into the back cushion.

“Ams it okays?” Skwisgaar finally managed to ask after making his way down Magnus’ collarbone.

“You… said you’d… talk to them…” Though his heart raced, his eyelids were growing heavier and heavier by the second. Magnus tried his best not to slur his speech, but he couldn’t even tell how his words sounded at this point. But Skwisgaar seemed to understand.

“I have beens. You knows how they ams. Just needs a little more times…”

“You…promised…”

Skwisgaar didn’t say anything and instead resumed busying his mouth against Magnus’ chest, working his way south. But Magnus didn’t care to move or react. Skwisgaar always said the same damn thing, and finally something had clicked. Despite his state of mind, Magnus could see with utmost clarity that Skwsigaar had always been lying. It had been hard to let go of the entire band so immediately, but cutting all contact with Skwisgaar had been impossible. Their relationship had been a simple give and take equation, but the moment Magnus was kicked out of the band and rightfully assumed their system of casual sex had ended, Skwisgaar appeared again, still begging for more. Magnus had been stupid and afraid of being alone, of losing the last of what connected him to better times, and agreed to let their encounters continue under the condition that Skwisgaar try to convince the band to reconsider their decision. Now, of course, it was painfully obvious Skwisgaar wasn’t trying at all. He’d probably even voted Magnus out just like the others.

Magnus’ eyes wet and finally, he let them shut. None of it would matter anymore anyway. Nothing would. He was so tired, he couldn’t even tell if his heartrate had picked up further or slowed to a crawl. He couldn’t even feel Skwisgaar’s touch anymore.

Why did he have to arrive when he did? Why couldn’t he have gotten there just one hour later? God, he hated Skwisgaar. He always had. But the way things were going… Not even Skwisgaar deserved something so cruel.

So much for his plan for the night.

“Skwisgaar…”

“Ja.” The voice came from somewhere below him.

“You’re into…a lot of weird shit…right?”

“Whats dos you wants to do?” Skwisgaar’s voice had moved to closer to his face now.

Magnus slowly opened his eyes and gave a weak, guilty grin with every ounce of strength he had left.

“You’re not… into necrophilia, are you…?”

“Magnus, whats the fucks-”

“Th-the bathroom…”

Magnus watched the confusion dance over Skwisgaar’s face as he hesitated just before springing off of Magnus and sprinting to the bathroom. He could hear him picking up and dropping the empty medicine bottle in a panic before tearing back out into the living room.

“You idiots! Fuckings idiots! Why dids-” Skwisgaar swallowed hard and looked back at the kitchen behind him. “Y-your phones works, rights?” Without waiting for an answer, Skwisgaar made a mad dash to the kitchen, tearing the receiver off its stand. Soon he was yelling something in his stupid accent, probably at some 911 operator. But Magnus let his eyelids droop, no longer concerned with much of anything. He’d done what he could. Whether the ambulance got there in time or not didn’t matter. If he lived, he’d just go on like nothing happened until the next time he inevitably hit rock bottom. And if he died, well, he’d finally get what he wanted for once.

The seconds and minutes seemed to blend together and suddenly Skwisgaar moved back in, uttering something, but Magnus couldn’t understand his fucking English anymore. He blinked as Skwisgaar held up his dropping head, but in his dizziness, Skwisgaar’s image seemed to multiply. Great. Just what he needed. More Skwisgaars.

And still…

Magnus let his eyes finally close.

Despite earlier wanting to be alone, despite his hatred for this lying piece of shit who was better than him at everything, Magnus was glad he didn’t have to die without someone by his side.

And if it had to be anyone…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title comes from the song Know Your Exit by Vivian Darkbloom. I listened to it basically on repeat while writing this.  
> also the ending is completely open-ended. it's up to you to decide if he lives or dies and what happens after :3c  
> 


	10. Unfinished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan/Magnus fic - done for a drabble request I got like fifty million years ago.  
> Post-Doomstar. Nathan recollects some of the rough times he'd had with Magnus, featuring super cool hamfisted mini plot twist.
> 
> This one killed me because i knew where i wanted to go with it but didn't know how to keep it all under a buhzillion words. You can clearly tell I started to give up. I'm sorry.

Keeping Mordhaus running without Offdensen was no easy task, but it was something they’d done before. Not graciously, he’d admit, but they’d survived for a while. Now they just had to survive again until the paper work was finalized to secure their new manager and chief financial officer.

But as distant and mysterious as Offdensen had been since leaving, Nathan had been keeping in touch with him through chain of sporadic messages. He probably didn’t want to see his empire fall to pieces again in his absence, and there was a lot of recovery to handle after successfully rescuing Toki, but Nathan hoped he still had _something_ keeping him around other than formalities. Though it seemed only Nathan was receiving the messages he sent, consisting of instructions and advice for maintaining the flow in Mordhaus, he suspected the more detailed messages were being sent to Offdensen’s remaining Gears who were rarely seen and impossible to catch.

Nathan heaved a heavy sigh as he began tapping his pen against his empty notepad with one hand, staring down at the latest message on his phone in the other. Actually received days ago, the message told him to pull the band back together, write and compose a new single in order to rally interest back up for the band while simultaneously allowing Toki a grand return appearance. Then they could put on a live performance to blow people away like they used to and finally get their lives back on track. But in the same message, in the same cold and indifferent tone, Offdensen had finally offered an answer to one of the many questions Nathan had thrown hopelessly at him.

Offdensen had confirmation of Magnus’ death. Though he’d suffered from impalement, he’d died from blood loss due to a self-inflicted stab wound to the heart.

Nathan hadn’t been able to finish reading the rest of the text.

It bothered him, for some reason, to see such an informal text about a previous bandmate…and friend. He’d tried not to think about it, but in the days that had followed, he found that he could no longer focus on the lyrics he was trying to bring to life. The single had to be amazing, something to really bring the band back together beyond just the fans. But his mind continued to wander elsewhere. Unlike the rest of the band, his family life had been pleasant. He had yet to experienced the death of a family member or close friend. The closest situations were perhaps when Offdensen and Toki had been presumed dead, but they’d both found a way back into Nathan’s life.

Magnus had weaseled his way back into Nathan’s life as well – and just as quickly left it forever. The reality of Magnus’ fate was finally beginning to set on him. Nathan ran a hand through his hair, his eyes now on the blank paper before him.

_“I’m gonna be honest. I think you were the only good part of the show tonight.”_

_“…Y’know, I feel the same way.” It came with a dry laugh. “But it’s all I’ve got right now.” Magnus took a sip of his beer, staring off past the bar counter._

_“Listen, I don’t compliment people. Ever. But your guitar is some of the best shit I’ve ever heard out here.”_

_“Sorry, I appreciate the flattery but I don’t have enough to buy you another beer and get home tonight…”_

_“I don’t want another beer; I want you to start a band with me.”_

Nathan knew he’d never be able to forget the way Magnus first looked up, too tired to understand immediately what was being asked of him. And the way his face slowly lit up, this man who was nearly ten years older than Nathan, as if he’d been spending all those years waiting for something like this – Nathan knew he needed this guy as much as he needed Nathan. Yes, he had experience and skill, but Nathan could see the fire in his eyes blazing with passion and motivation.

They’d hit it off immediately. They were more than compatible, musically and socially - on most days. But of course nothing could stay easy. Finding someone so skilled and musically driven was too good to be true, and Nathan quickly discovered where Magnus’ sever personality flaw was hiding.

Nathan pressed the pen to the paper.

_“Where did you even find the guy? He can barely speak English. At least we can hold a conversation with the guys I chose.”_

_“I found him just like I found you, but he’s been in like, a shit ton of bands-”_

_“Wow, who fucking cares.”_

_“You should, if you really want this band to shape up. He’s the best guy we’ve got and you know it. Your guys all fucking blow. It’s like you chose them because you’re afraid of choosing someone better than you.”_

_“I’m not going to be demoted to rhythm by some pretty boy diva who thinks he’s hot shit just because he’s been in some no-name bands.”_

_“You ever take a good, hard look at yourself, Magnus?”_

_“FUCK YOU!”_

Nathan remembered how he’d actually jumped at the eruption, but the way Magnus’ fingers scratched his chest as he clutched the fabric of Nathan’s shirt, how his left arm raised and his fist balled in preparation to strike him – it came from nowhere, and it scared him more than any outburst. Outside the typical deafening venue, Magnus had never before raised his voice to anyone, let alone Nathan who had very much expected a ‘fuck you,’ but the unprecedented volume and physical violence had stunned him, leaving him staring like an ass at the man whose cocked back fist was aching to strike. And then Magnus shoved him back and stormed out, perhaps deeming the conversation over.

Nathan lifted the tip of the pen after realizing he’d only been creating a pool of ink that bled through the sheets of his notebook. He wasn’t getting anywhere, not while his mind was heavy with memories. Adjusting his glasses with a sigh, he shut the notebook. Though he didn’t want to keep thinking about what was done and over with, he couldn’t help but laugh at how resistant Magnus had been to Skwisgaar’s addition only to end up becoming incredibly close in time. It had taken time for his pride to heal, but eventually Magnus had more or less accepted Skwisgaar’s raw talent and the position of lead guitar it had earned him. Nathan let out an agitated groan, closing his eyes and stretching back in his seat. The guitarists had become close and their relationship had somehow never caused complications, contrary to what Nathan had initially expected. But his and Magnus’ relationship, on the other hand…

Before the outburst, they were always together, writing or composing or palling around. Magnus always sought Nathan out, running his ideas (albeit ever unfinished) for lyrics and riffs by him with the same passion they’d shared since day one. Things became stilted and awkward afterwards for a while, but the two had slowly managed to put it all behind them. And just when things had begun returning to normal, everything took a sharp turn for the worst.

It had just been some fucked up night where things had gotten out of hand. Both tired and sweaty from the venue’s broken AC, Nathan returned to the greenroom after a show in search of Magnus, hoping to catch him alone to reprimand him for his third night of mistake-ridden guitar. Just as he’d hoped, Magnus was there, but Nathan quickly came to realize he wasn’t in the best condition for a lecture. Seeing him drunk and uncaring only served to fuel Nathan’s temper further.

_“You really fucked it up tonight.”_

_“Yeah, it happens. It was just a bad night.”_

_“You’ve been having ‘a bad night’ for the past three shows. What’s fucking happening, man?”_

_“It’s nothing, just fuck off.”_

_“I’m trying to help you, jackoff. Besides, if you start slipping up and getting lazy, you’ll take the rest of us with you.”_

_“Lazy? I don’t see you doing much else besides screaming into a microphone. It’s not gonna be me that drags us down.”_

_“When was the last time you finished writing something, Magnus?”_

_With that, Magnus quickly stood, throwing the now empty glass he’d slipped from the bar to the ground, stoic even as it shattered. The fragments crunched underfoot as he began closing in on Nathan._

_“Grab me again,” Nathan threatened. “Give me a reason to finally kick your ass.”_

_And Magnus lunged. With a single step back, however, Nathan avoided him entirely, allowing him the chance to grasp Magnus by the neck, twisting around and pinning Magnus to the wall behind them. Raising a fist to do what Magnus couldn’t, Nathan suddenly hesitated. The way his face twisted from a grimace to a smirk under Nathan’s force, how he didn’t fight back in the slightest just wasn’t right. It wasn’t the alcohol. He didn’t even try to hit Nathan._

_“The fuck is your problem?” Nathan snarled, letting his grip loosen. “What am I doing to make you hate me so much?”_

_“God, you are one dense motherfucker.”_

_Nathan instantly regretted relaxing his hold on Magnus. He felt hands take purchase in his still sweaty shirt and his stomach tensed, prepared for a blow to the gut or chest, but instead he was suddenly pulled forward. The only impact he felt was the impact of their lips as Magnus took advantage of his shock to deepen the kiss as quickly as possible. It felt like an eternity before Nathan remembered how to move his body and ripped back, wiping his mouth with the entire length of his forearm._

_“What the fuck was that?”_

_“I’ll give you three guesses…” Magnus muttered, sliding down the wall and hanging his head. “You gonna kick my ass now?”_

_“You’re fucking wasted.”_

_“And you’re sober but you still kissed back.”_

_Nathan could only gawk. He had done no such thing…had he?_

_“Just…hurry up and beat the shit out of me while I still can’t feel anything.”_

_Nathan stood there, at a complete loss for words until he could finally make a decision._

_“This never happened.”_

But it had happened. And it happened again. And again. And again. It was the stupidest thing Nathan had ever done, but for a time they both benefited from the convenience the other provided…and Nathan couldn’t deny the satisfaction he got from seeing Magnus so eager after finally getting what he wanted. Back then, nothing could have woken him up to the warning signs Magnus continued to display. His jealousy, his desire for control, his manipulation – Nathan turned a blind eye to everything until it all finally came to a head. Magnus’ knife hadn’t been buried into his shoulder solely because of a simple difference in musical opinion. But none of the band had to know the truth. Kicking Magnus had been a difficult decision only made easier by the unanimous votes, but truthfully, the newfound relief and freedom he felt was nearly instant. But Magnus was dead now. There was no point in thinking about him or their past, as strange as it felt knowing that the Magnus he’d first met that night was the same person that had kidnapped and tortured his bandmate - his brother.

Nathan stood, suddenly curious about something he’d long forgotten. He found himself at the closet he used for storage, stuffed with old dusty boxes full of things that dated back to their regular jackoff days. Pulling out a beat up old shoebox and dusting it off, he removed the lid to reveal a bent folder, packed with old, unused lyrics he’d written as a young, aspiring vocalist. It was all garbage, really, but he never had it in himself to throw it away. He didn’t miss Magnus, he reaffirmed to himself as he dug through the papers. The guy wasn’t even worth remembering. He deserved what happened to him after the hell he put the band through and the living nightmare he’d made Toki’s life. And then his gaze fell upon a packet, haphazardly stapled and well worn through. A once neon sticky note still stuck to the front of the packet –

_LAST PAGE = GOOD SHIT!!!_

It was Magnus’ oddly pretty scrawl, without a doubt. His subconscious had led him here to torture him, it seemed. Standing with a groan, he took the packet back to his desk, flipping through it slowly. Many entries were at least decent, but all of them were depressingly incomplete. It was one of the last collections of ideas Magnus had given Nathan to look over; and Nathan had lied straight through his teeth when he told Magnus he had. He’d never even opened it before it got buried away somewhere in his messy apartment.

When he arrived at the last page, Nathan nearly rolled his eyes. It was nearly blank, save for four simple looking verses. But as he read them, his jaw fell slightly. He read them over and over, staring down at the once familiar handwriting for what felt like hours before there was a knock at his door. Without waiting for a reply, Pickles entered his room.

“Hey dude, you’re not busy are ya?”

“No.” Nathan tried to obscure the paper, but it was too late.

“Oh, diggin’ up old Magnus shit? What, are ya gonna burn it all or somethin’?”

“Yeah probably. Anyway, what did you want?”

“Oh, well, Toki’s gonna be getting’ out of the hospital wing in a bit and he wants to see you.”

Nathan let out a grumble, adjusting his glasses.

“C’mon, you’ve hardly visited him at all,” Pickles pushed. “It’s not your fault, y’know.”

Nathan was silent for a moment before pushing himself to his feet.

“Offdensen wants us to do a new single. Do you think you’d be interested in doing some backup vocals for this one?”

“Holy shit, dude… Really…?”

“Yeah,” Nathan shrugged, following Pickles out into the hallway. “Once I figure some shit out, I’ll get back to you. I just need a little more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The keeper wields his scythe  
> You gotta kiss this life goodbye  
> There is another place beyond we’ll meet in time,  
> And I will greet you all in the next life.


End file.
